A VOICE IN THE DARKNESS
by Shirley Jean
Summary: As Pete Malloy looked at the troubled young man staggering dangerously close to the edge, his heart almost skipped a beat. Truth be told, He hadn't really been in favor of this undercover assignment from the beginning, and had even said as much. But Jim Reed had been able to eagerly convince the brass it was a good idea, and now here they were.*** A story of true brothers/friends


As Pete Malloy looked at the troubled young man staggering dangerously close to the edge, his heart almost skipped a beat.

Truth be told, He hadn't really been in favor of this undercover assignment from the beginning, and had even said as much. But Jim Reed had been able to eagerly convince the brass it was a good idea, and now here they were.

He had to find a way to get through to Jim, but how? Pete could tell by his glassy eyes, slurred speech, and inability to balance, that whatever Jim had been given had him on cloud nine, oblivious to the danger he had put himself in, and very, very paranoid…

N-N-NO! S-stayyy b-bback!"

"Okay…But Jim, you have to listen to me. Listen…alright? You've been drugged…do you understand? You are in danger right now, and you NEED to do what I am telling you…" Pete made sure his voice, as well as his movements, were slow and deliberate.

Jim tried to process what was said, but he felt so strange. He couldn't see straight…everything was blurry. His heart was beating so fast, that if felt as if it would rip from his chest, and his legs felt like they were no longer under his control. He couldn't think straight...Why was he feeling this way? Where was he? Who was speaking to him…what was he saying? All he had were questions, and no answers came. He felt scared…He shook his head to clear the muddled thoughts, but all that did was make him feel nauseous.

What had the man said? Drugged…? Danger…?

Wait a minute… the sleazy informant at the bar…the beer…it must have been drugged. At least he now had some understanding…but still…where was he? Jim tried to make his eyes focus, but it was like trying to look through a goldfish bowl, making him nauseous again. He was standing on a rough slope, and could make out people, but they were quite small. He felt a warm breeze on his face, and he closed his eyes to draw it in - it was then he realized he was outside. Jim stumbled…and began to fall. He threw his hands out in panic, feeling some sort of tiles as he fell. Tiles…Roof tiles…and hot sticky…tar? He was on a roof…

Sudden dread clutched him. How did he get on a roof? He froze where he fell. He was in trouble, and feeling worse by the minute…

"JIM! Stay where you are! Don't move! I'm coming to you…Stay there, Okay?"

Pete tried not to panic and slowly moved toward his best friend. The high-pitched drone of approaching sirens were of little comfort, as Pete feared it might make Jim more skittish so close to the edge of the building.

That man was talking to him again… Was he going to help him, or should he be wary of him…? What if he was the one who drugged him…? He could easily push him off the roof in the state he was in…

"Junior…I'm coming…Hang on…" Pete edged closer…

Jim tried to focus on the man speaking to him. That man...seemed familiar…could he trust him? He could barely see his outline…but something about him seemed…comforting.

Junior…That name…Only one person had ever called him that. It had to be him...it had to be...Pete! Relief rushed over him. Pete would help him…

"Pete…h-help me…_please_…" Jim managed to whisper.

Those words were music to Pete's ears. He had hoped-no, prayed - that using the old nickname would stir his memory – and it had. Now, to get him down safely…

The sirens were getting closer now…and Pete was more relieved now, knowing that more help had arrived, and Jim had recognized him.

"Hold on Jim…I'm coming to get you. Everything's going to be okay. Take it easy." Pete approached his partner cautiously.

Pete was coming. Things would be okay. But he felt cold…very, very cold, and yet a thin sheen of sweat broke out on his forehead. He felt quite dizzy and nauseous. Stay still, he told himself…Wait for Pete…He could hear someone scrambling along the roof toward him…how could he be sure it was Pete? After all, he couldn't see straight…and he began to panic. Despite the rising bile in his throat, Jim forced himself to focus on the approaching blue uniform of his best friend and partner, and allowed himself to begin to relax. He could feel oblivion call to him.

When Pete reached Jim, worry tore at his heart. His partner didn't look good. Jim's eyes were closed, and his normally tanned California complexion was shockingly stark. Pete had never seen him so pale. There were beads of sweat on his forehead, and yet as Pete checked his partner's pulse, he noticed that Jim's skin was like ice. His pulse was too fast, and his breathing was way too fast as well. Pete gently shook his friend's shoulder.

"Jim…open your eyes…It's me, Pete…Come on, Junior." Pete saw that Jim was fading on him.

"Don't you quit on me, Officer Reed! You need to wake up so that we can get you off this roof!"

Jim could feel the darkness calling to him…he welcomed it. He didn't like feeling like this – so strange and out of control. He wanted to sleep and wake up when he felt back to normal, but still that voice relentlessly spoke to him, refusing to let him rest. He tried to focus on the words, but only broken pieces came through…

"Reed …wake…off…roof…"

The roof…he'd forgotten he was still on the roof. He had to wake up and help Pete get him down…He tried to open his eyes and focus on his partner and friend. Everything was still blurry, and now the slightest bit of light hurt. A horrendous headache was building. He felt ice cold again. He began to shiver, and his teeth began to chatter uncontrollably.

The sirens were getting closer now…and Pete was more relieved now, knowing that more help had arrived, and Jim had recognized him.

"Hold on Jim…I'm coming to get you. Everything's going to be okay. Take it easy." Pete still was careful to approach his partner with caution.

Pete was coming. Things would be okay. But he felt cold…very, very cold, and yet a thin sheen of sweat broke out on his forehead. He felt quite dizzy and nauseous.

Stay still, he told himself…Wait for Pete. He could hear someone scrambling along the roof toward him…how could he be sure it _was_ Pete? After all, he couldn't see straight…and he began to panic. Despite the rising bile in his throat, Jim forced himself to focus on the approaching blue uniform of his best friend and partner, and allowed himself to begin to relax. He could feel oblivion call to him.

Jim had always wanted to please his partner – even now. In a moment of clarity, Jim caught a brief glimpse of the worry and strain on his best friend's face before his vision failed him once again. He decided to put all he had into helping at that moment.

"H-hey, Pete…c-could you h-help me u-up…?" Pete helped his partner to his feet, giving him a few seconds to gain his balance, supporting most of his weight as they tried to walk back together to the weathered exit door on the roof, being the gurney couldn't navigate the narrow stairway. The attendants waited at the top of the stairs to intercept their patient.

He almost made it.

Within moments of his feet landing on solid ground, Jim's legs began to buckle and two strong but gentle arms lowered him to the ground as darkness claimed him once again. As he lost consciousness, Jim could hear Pete barking orders at the ambulance attendants...

"Don't just STAND there, MOVE IT! …Easy, EASY! Get a blanket…he's really cold…"

Pete was taking care of things as he always did. He felt safe.

Now he could finally sleep...

END


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